Asphyxiation
by StrykingShadows
Summary: Children shouldn't have Hanahaki Disease. It's practically unheard of, actually. Max has managed to hide it for years, but of course it's within a minute of meeting this annoying happy-go-lucky camp counselor that his secret is rather forcefully spilled from his lungs.


**_Warnings: Descriptions of blood, dark thoughts, mentions of death_**

 ** _This was going to be humorous, but then I remembered it was from a prompt list that specifically listed it as angst, so I changed it. And this is a two parter with another request I received. Enjoy!_**

 ** _(Tumblr: strykers-scrawlings)_**

* * *

Max tries to hide it. He's managed to for years, despite the trails of bloody petals he constantly leaves in his wake. After all, who would expect a fucking _ten year old_ to be suffering from Hanahaki Disease? You know, the disease from _unrequited love_? Because that, in most people's minds, is truly only applicable to those who do not receive requited romantic love, right? _Right?_

The flowers constantly crowding his lungs and rooting around his heart would really fucking beg to differ.

Despite hiding it from everyone in the overly crowded city he lives in, it's as soon as he's sent to the desolate _cursed_ camp. David, the overzealous idiot with the need to do as much _good_ as he can fit into his day, knows it immediately. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't have the opportunity to, but Max can tell.

 _He knows._

He can tell by the way David's face pales. He can tell by the way the bright smile he had greeted Max with turns plastic. He can tell by the way panic alights in the depths of his gaze. He can tell by the way he can only watch as Max, the only one on the first bus to the camp, nearly collapses in front of him, so he can choke up a handful of brightly colored anemonies, slick with blood and gleaming in the sunlight, before passing out.

He wakes up in a rickety cabin bed with David hovering over him, an old, outdated cordless phone clutched in his hand. Max stares at him blankly, hardly able to think over the throbbing ache in his chest. David leans over him, pressing the back of his hand up under Max's sweaty bangs. Max shies away, lip curling slightly.

"Where am I?" Max snarls, his heart pounding in his chest. He can't remember what happened. He had… he had arrived at camp… gotten off the bus… grimaced at David's blatant _I love everyone_ smile…

Bloody anemonies, clutched in his palm.

David passes Max a glass of water, which he takes greedily to rid himself of the phantom feeling of the flowers crowding his throat. David sits gingerly beside Max on the bed, staring at him with worried eyes. Max drags his sleeve across his mouth, looking away. "Well? Where am I?"

"Counselor's cabin," David murmurs softly. "I brought you here after your attack."

Max scowls at the phone in David's hands. "So how many people know about my sickness now? Hanahaki is hard to hide and I'm gonna be pissed if these past few years of hiding it have gone down the drain over one little incident."

"I haven't called anyone yet." David frowns. "Hanahaki is so uncommon in someone so young… you're, what, nine?"

Max scoffs, crossing his arms. " _Ten_ , actually. Not that it's any of your business."

"It is now." His brow creases in concern. "You're my camper now, and you feel unloved enough to have contracted Hanahaki. So before I call anyone… do _you_ think it would do any good?"

Max glares at David before lowering his gaze, shaking his head. "I've left obvious signs, at first. Seeds on the counter, petals in the living room, full fucking _flowers_ in my bedroom. They… they either don't notice or don't fucking care."

David frowns, thumb ghosting over the glossy buttons on the console. "And you didn't go to anyone else? A teacher, another adult? Anyone?"

Max rolls his eyes. "And they'll do what? Love me out of obligation? Because it's _the right thing to do?_ It wouldn't be any fucking realer than what I have now, and I'm not stupid enough to _not_ recognize it. I can already tell it's what _you'll_ be doing."

"It's not obligatory love," David states firmly. Max just scoffs. "I _want_ to love each and every one of my campers, including you."

"Bullshit. You don't even know my name," he spits.

David raises an eyebrow. "You're Max, right? We were told you'd be coming to camp early. I thought that was strange, but if you have Hanahaki… Max, how bad is your situation?"

"None of your _fucking_ business, asshat!" Max scoots back, every muscle in his body lined with tension as he scrambles away from the counselor. David sighs and lowers his head, running a hand over his hair.

"I need to report this, Max. Hanahaki in children is so rare, and your household needs to be investiga-"

"No!" Max grips the sleeves of his sweatshirt tightly, as if he can keep his panic shut away inside the confines of the cotton. "No, just, just leave it alone! Leave me alone!"

David watches him resolutely, hands wavering in the air as if he wants to draw Max into a tight hug. Max scowls, heart hammering away in his chest as his throat tightens.

The worst part is he can't tell if it's a panic attack or another flower crawling its away up his throat, another thick bulb to try and block his airway and choke him out, proving to the world that despite everything he's ever done to try and prove otherwise he's still just a useless waste of space that Mother Nature is trying to correct in the best way she knows how- by taking it back forcefully.

Max feels a hand on his back and leans into it to steady himself, trying to breathe deeply. He gags and curls, trying to let gravity help him evict what feels like an entire bouquet in his throat. David gasps softly at the sight of the blood dribbling past Max's lips and onto the bedsheets, staining the bright Camp Camp yellow fabric a deep red. Max grimaces and narrows his focus to living past this attack.

Five long, torturous minutes pass. David leaves and returns with a bucket for Max to hack purple petals into. Eventually, however, the fit passes and Max has a new flower- a purple hyacinth- to add to his death bouquet. David quietly takes the bucket and sets it aside, passing Max a few wet wipes. Max cleans himself up, refusing to look at David.

"So, yeah. I'm sick. So fucking what. They can't do anything for me. Hanahaki operations are notorious for killing the children who go under." Max glares at David. "So keep your mouth shut."

David frowns back. Max hates the pity in his eyes. "I can't hide this from the other counselors, and the campers will probably find out."

Max sneers and lays back, every limb feeling leaden from exhaustion. "So let them. Life isn't fun and games.

"And it's better they learn sooner rather than later."


End file.
